I'm Sorry

Disclaimer: I no own Harry Potter.

A/N. Can be any two characters you wish though was originally written with Harry and Draco in mind. This was done for a school project. Enjoy and review.

He took the portrait of the two off the wall. Staring at it, he threw it as far away from him as he could. He could never be perfect. The frame shattered, leaving pieces of mosaic glass strewn across the carpet and linoleum. The painting of the two torn at the corner's edges. No matter what he tried, it never worked. He wasn't good enough. With a silent cry, he slid to the floor in the corner barely missing the fragments from entering his person.

He remembered the pictures. Quite clearly actually. Why had he opened the envelope? Maybe it had been a good thing he had, but it was also the worst thing he could have ever done. Finally, when things were starting to go right and he was starting to truly open his heart. Then this betrayal. Why? The pictures of his lover kissing the girl haunted his hazy vision. His hand found one of the little pieces of glass. Not one to betray what his mind told him to do, he slowly drug the piece over his arm, watching in awe as the red liquid made him feel calmer. He did it twice more before he was able to think clearly. As he sat there, he figured out just what it was he was going to say. He stayed there for how long he didn't know, before the door opened.

Opening the door, he resolved to tell his lover just what had happened on the way home before it came to his knowledge some other way. He didn't want to betray his lover, especially not with what was in his pocket. The sight that met him however was not one he ever wanted to see in his life. His lover had three long gashes down his right arm from wrist to elbow that were bleeding profusely yet slowly. It was a mesmerizing yet deadly sight. Calming himself, he stepped forward to head into the kitchen to get the first aid kit so he could help but before he could take two steps, he had been rounded upon and slammed against the wall and was being glared at. If looks could kill, he would have been burnt ashes. If that was even possible. But if anyone could manage to do the impossible, it was his lover.

"Why? Why did you do it? I thought you loved me. Was I wrong? Am I not good enough for you?" Not giving his lover a chance to speak, he continued, his arms still bleeding. "I thought our love was pure but I guess I was wrong. They told me you would break my heart but I stood up for you and protested that you would never do that to me. It seems I was wrong. You have no need of being here. Leave." With that last word, he turned and slid to the ground again. Picking the piece he had previously had up once again, he pulled it over his left arm, but this time he drew the pattern of a snake around it. He didn't think of it as cutting. He was drawing. The glass was just an extension of himself.

Wanting to go near and stop the bleeding but knowing he couldn't, he held himself still as he thought what he was going to say. He put his hand into his pocket and felt the little emerald box that he had planned on giving him today when the time was right. Alas, it was not to be. Maybe fate hated them both. They never seemed to get what they wanted in life. Not even love for one another. He didn't know what he was going to say, so instead, he slowly walked to the mantle and put the little box upon it. He truly loved him and he would not take the ring back. It belonged to his lover just as much as it belonged to himself. Knowing he had no right to the house anymore, he asked, "May I have a sheet of paper?"

Without so much as looking at his lover he answered, "You know where it is." He knew it wasn't the answer his lover/ex-lover wanted but that was what he was going to get. If he wasn't cold towards him, he would break and beg him to stay. He couldn't do that, not after this.

He sighed. It was to be expected. He didn't know how he had found out so quick considering it had only happened an hour before, but he did know what his lover was talking about. There was no point in lying. Finding the paper he wrote, before tucking it into the lid of the box and walking toward the door. Before he put his hand on the handle, he spoke.

"I didn't know what had happened at first. She kissed me and I was surprised. I stood there for about a minute before I pushed her away from me. I ended up knocking her down. She asked me why I didn't like her and I told her of my hatred for her because of my parents arranged marriage. My father could truly care less as long as I produce an heir but if I was with someone before that time, he would try to hunt the one I love down and eliminate them from the picture. That's why I told her I lived alone. I didn't want my father to find out. I wasn't ashamed. I know who I am. I know what he does behind my mother's back. Hell, my mother knows it happens. She doesn't care because she's in an affair too. I don't want to be like that. I want true love and I'm sorry for hurting you. I never meant to betray you, but I know I have. I'm truly sorry. Goodbye." With that, he opened the door and walked out.

In all the time they had been together, he had never heard the words "I'm sorry" come out of his mouth. He would acknowledge his mistakes and sometimes remedy them, but he had never apologized for being wrong. It was a surprise. One enough to knock him out of his stupor and to remember that his love had left a small box and note on the mantle. Standing, he quickly grabbed hold of the wall and waited for the dizziness to pass. Maybe he had lost a little too much blood. Oh well, he would live, and if he didn't; well it wasn't like it would matter, or he would care. Staggering, and using the wall for support he managed to get to the kitchen and grab the first aid kit that he had stashed there last week. Good thing. He would have hated to have to get all the way up the stairs. Cleaning himself up a bit, he resolved to get to the mantle without falling, then he would sleep.

He took the emerald box carefully in his hand. Most of the things like this were breakable. His love had money, not as much as he, but his love liked to shop while he did not. Opening the box he took out the note. Unfolding the complicated twists and turns, he finally got it open to read:

I'm sorry for all the pain I cause you. I feel as if I am the glass and the one to cut you. I never want to be the cause of your hurt and pain. I love you with all my heart and whether you choose to believe it or not, I do not particularly care, but it is the honest truth. When you open the box, you will find what I had chosen to give to you when the time was right today. I'm sorry that it can no longer ever be, but please keep it. Even if you do not keep it in sight, all I ask that it stays in your possession.

Aishiteru/I Love You.

Opening the box, he found the most beautiful ring that he had ever seen. It must have been custom made. The band was that of a twined snake and had two stones set in it for the eyes. One of emerald, the other of onyx. It was pure gold and sparkled brightly. Tears poured down his face. What had he done? He placed the ring on his finger. He would keep it always as a reminder of the love that he had once had and would never have again. He would keep it as a reminder of the largest mistake he had made in his life. He ran to the door and threw it open planning to go after his lover. Instead, he never made it that far. He passed out cold halfway down the drive.

Even through anger comes happiness.

Always listen to both sides of the story.

Cutting yourself doesn't always answer all the problems; it can become the worst one.